He took a step towards James, only to freeze as the pistol waved in his direction. Unlike most of his fellow Navy and Space Force officers, Kyle knew perfectly well what frangible rounds did to a body. He’d seen it on the Gulf and had no desire to see it today.
“It doesn’t make sense,” James whispered, the gun now wavering back and forth between Antonio and Kyle. “Don always explained it to me, always made it fit with God’s will! But this is God’s will, and he can’t explain how it’s not!”
A puzzle piece fell into place in Kyle’s mind, and he cursed the lack of his old implant capability. He would have run a search for other members of the Church of the Last Advent without even thinking before – now he’d had to think, and he’d forgotten that Donald Indigo had also been a member.
Don Indigo had also been a Castle native, however, and used to adapting his religious views to other cultures. The older and more world-wise man had clearly taken Russell under his wing, helped him deal with the culture clash.
Unfortunately, Don Indigo had been a Space Force gunner – one who hadn’t made it back from the strike that had killed Achilles. Without his friend to rely on as a translator, Russell had been even more lost than before.
Now he knew to look for it, Kyle could see the slightly glazed look in the Lieutenant-Commander’s eyes. The twitch in the hand that held the gun, and the shivers running through the muscles of the man’s legs.
“When did you last sleep, James?” Kyle asked quietly. “Not laid down in your rack and forced yourself to stay, but actually sleep.”
The exhausted and half-mad engineer waved the gun at Pendez. “With her.”
And the last pieces fell into place.
“James,” Kyle said softly. “It’s no-one’s job here to fix you. It’s not mine – and it’s certainly not Maria’s.”
“But we can help you, if you let us,” he continued. “Don wouldn’t have wanted this. God wouldn’t want this. What is the sixth commandment?”
For a long moment, Russell didn’t seem to have heard him, then he whispered.
“Thou shalt not…” his voice choked off in a sob.
“Thou shalt not kill,” Kyle finish for him. “I know everything’s gone wrong, James, but I promise you – we can make it better. Just… give me the gun.”
For a long, long, moment, Kyle wasn’t sure if that was one push too far. Then, with one massive sob that wracked his entire frame, Russell handed Kyle the pistol and crumpled to the floor.
Kyle checked it, safetied it, and stepped to one side. He gestured to Khadem.
“Marshal Khadem,” he said formally, his gaze. “Restrain Lieutenant-Commander Russell. Take him to the infirmary and play the recording of this… incident for Doctor Pinochet.”
“Until I, Captain Blair, or Surgeon-Commander Pinochet say otherwise, he is in psychiatric detention,” Kyle ordered.
He stood to one side as Khadem snapped a pair of handcuffs on Roberts and led the engineer, mostly gently, out of Antonio’s quarters. The two Marines at the door braced to attention and saluted Kyle, then followed their commander out.
Finally, Kyle turned his attention back to the two remaining occupants of the room. Now the immediate crisis was past, Antonio was grabbing a pair of pants, a tell-tale shiver running through his muscles as the adrenaline started to come down.
Maria Pendez, however, still sat in the corner with a sheet wrapped around her and her eyes thoughtful.
“Let me make one thing clear, Lieutenant-Commander Pendez,” Kyle told her. “This was not your fault. You did everything right, and you had no way of knowing how close to the edge James was.”
“That poor man,” she whispered, and Kyle shook his head gently at her.
“His reasons may be more sympathetic than I expected, but that does not change the fact that he stalked you and threatened you with a weapon,” he said flatly. “While I will speak to Surgeon-Commander Pinochet before I make any charges myself, if either of you chooses to press them I will prefer them to JAG without hesitation.”
“He waved a gun at you!” Antonio snapped. “What do you mean, ‘that poor man’?”
“She means that our Navigator has a heart a few sizes too large,” Kyle told the other man. “It’s a virtue, in my opinion. One of her many hidden depths – she is much more than a pretty face.”
From Maria’s expression, she wasn’t so sure that the same description applied to Markus Antonio anymore.
Chapter 29
Under Alcubierre Drive
12:00 September 13, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-001 Avalon – Flight Group Briefing Room
Stanford always found SFG-001’s briefing room ominously large when the squadron commanders met there. The room, with its rows of chairs, was designed to hold every pilot, gunner, and flight engineer from six squadrons. The front ‘stage,’ however, could also double as a meeting room for the commanders of those squadrons, with the big holo-projector serving as an aid for tactics and logistics.
“How’s the new organization shaping up for everyone?” Avalon’s new CAG asked his squadron leads.
Alpha Squadron, now commanded by Flight Commander Rokos, had been assembled from the survivors of Alpha and Echo squadrons. The other four remaining squadrons hadn’t been as bad, but deaths among those who’d successfully ejected and the loss of ships had required at least some consolidation in all five.
“Alpha is shaping up well,” Rokos replied gruffly. “We lost a lot of good people, and morale is still crawling slowly out of the shitter, but they’ll fly and they’ll fight – and they’ll do it as a team, too.”
Michael glanced around the others. None of them spoke up for a minute, and he wondered if that was because they had no issues – or if they were still unsure of what to make of their new CAG.
Finally, Lancet shrugged. The slim blond women placed her hands on the table and glanced around the others.
“We’re all in about the same boat as Russell,” she said bluntly. “None of our squads got hit as badly as Echo or Alpha, but this ‘Starfighter Group’ is the size of a standard Wing. Everyone knows everyone. Almost thirty dead and Roberts grounded for life? People are starting to realize just what being a starfighter pilot at war means.”
“They’re afraid they won’t go home,” Mendez stated. “They all knew, intellectually at least, what being a starfighter pilot meant – but I don’t think any of us really expected the war to renew on our watch.”
The new CAG sighed, leaning back from the table and eyeing his commanders. He wasn’t surprised by anything they were saying, but he wasn’t sure he saw a solution, either.
“I’ve been too busy catching up on paperwork and the realities of being in command,” he admitted. “How bad is it, people? Are we going to have a problem?”
“No,” Wolter said sharply. The other four squadron commanders glanced at him quickly. Andrés Wolter had been promoted out of the New Amazon Reserve Flotilla’s defending squadrons after Randall’s arrest, and that few extra weeks still left him as ‘the new guy’.
“I’m the most junior Flight Commander here,” the sandy-haired pilot reminded everyone. “Two months ago, I was a Flight Lieutenant, and you’ll forgive me for feeling I’ve a better feel for how some of our pilots and crew are feeling,” he said bluntly.
“They’re scared all right, no-one’s pretending otherwise,” he continued. “I don’t think anyone with half a brain ever goes into battle without being scared – and the neural bandwidth capacity we require of starfighter crew corresponds pretty closely with above average intelligence.
“But don’t forget, we all grew up in the shadow of the war. Most of us grew up in military families – and a lot of us knew a family where someone didn’t come home.
“We signed up to be starfighter crews knowing the odds for survival in a fight. We all knew the war was coming – even if we all hoped it would be after our time in uniform.
“But we also knew – we all k
now, pilots and commanders alike,” he gestured around the table, “that it wouldn’t be the Alliance that started the war.”
“And it wasn’t,” he concluded. “So yes, we’ve lost friends. We’ve been reminded of our mortality – and that’s scary as hell.”
“But I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am pissed as hell at the Commonwealth,” he finished. “And my squadron? They may be scared, but they’ll take everything the Commonwealth throws at us.”
Stanford grinned at his most junior squadron commander put his own thoughts into words, and glanced around the other commanders. Rokos looked just as grimly determined as ever, and Zhao and Lancet were calmly nodding.
Mendez looked more than a little taken aback, so it was him Stanford locked gazes with as he leaned in.
“Andrés is right,” he reminded them. “Don’t underestimate your people – don’t underestimate their courage, and do not underestimate their anger. Our people thought they were on a cakewalk show the flag cruise – and those same people killed a goddamn battlecruiser for us.”
“So yes, let’s keep an eye on morale, but let’s not expect them to curl up and die on us. They’ll be willing to take on the Commonwealth for us – we need to make sure they’re ready to.”
Mendez finally met Michael’s gaze and nodded.
“Now, as part of making sure our people are ready for anything,” Wing Commander Michael Stanford continued with a smile, “I’ve had Senior Chief Hammond pull together a detailed simulation of a full deck launch for us. We pulled it off when we had to, but I think we can do it faster and we can do it cleaner.”
“Don’t you agree?”
Under Alcubierre Drive
13:00 September 13, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-001 Avalon – Captain’s Office
“Well?”
“Well, what?” Kyle asked the Captain, glancing down the agenda on his datapad to see if there was anything specific the Captain was referring to. They’d just finished discussing the status of the positron capacitors that provided the ship’s heavy beams with their extra punch, and next on the list was the recommended promotions in Engineering.
“I’m assuming Lieutenant-Commander Russell is somewhere on this detailed agenda of yours?” the captain asked dryly. “That situation seems a bit more top of mind than some standard time-in-grade and plays-well-with-others promotions, if you don’t mind my saying.”
Kyle sighed, and tapped the item in his agenda – at the very bottom. His report on the situation flipped up on his datapad.
“You’ve read the report,” he said calmly.
“Yes. It was noticeably lacking in a long-term recommendation,” the gaunt captain replied, his natural eye holding Kyle’s gaze. “Psychiatric detention is all very well, but we do need to do something with that messed up young man.”
“I am inclined to wait until we have Doctor Pinochet’s report, and to see if Pendez or Antonio decide to press charges,” Kyle said slowly. “I’ll admit, my temptation is to dust off Article Thirty-Six though.”
Article Thirty-Six was the portion of the Federations Articles of Military Justice that covered, among other things, ‘aggravated assault on an officer.’ None of the charges that could be laid under Article Thirty-Six could be sustained through shipboard administrative hearings, and none carried less than ten years in prison.
“You seemed to understand what was driving him pretty well,” Blair observed. “I’m surprised you would be that harsh.”
Something in the level gaze of the Captain’s natural eye told Kyle he was being tested.
“At that moment in time, talking down Mister Russell without getting anyone hurt was the priority,” the newly minted XO said bluntly. “Understanding and sympathizing with his grief and, well, near-insanity was necessary.
“However much I may understand what happened, and however much I may sympathize with his mental state at the time, the simple fact of the matter is that he stalked a fellow officer and threatened two fellow officers with a weapon.
“While it is possible that Doctor Pinochet’s assessment of his mental state may be such that it would be… inappropriate to apply the full force of the Articles, under no circumstances do I feel it is appropriate to ask Lieutenant-Commander Pendez or Senior Lieutenant Antonio to serve on the same ship as the man who pointed a gun at them.
“Either he needs to be charged and face the consequences of his actions, or – at a minimum – he needs to be removed from this ship.”
Blair nodded, releasing Kyle’s eyes as he leaned back and smiled.
“Good,” he said softly. “I’ll admit, Kyle, that when your report lacked a recommendation on what to do with Mister Russell, I was concerned that I’d acquired a bleeding heart for an Executive Officer. Our job in cases like these is not to be fair, or even just. Our job is to maintain this ship as a weapon – a shield and a sword to defend the Federation.”
“Especially now, sir,” Kyle replied softly. “Too many of our people are afraid – adding the stress of sharing a mess with a man who tried to kill you?” He shook his head. “I’m not putting our people through that.”
“I’m glad you agree with me, Mister Roberts,” Blair told him with a grim smile. “I’ve already informed Doctor Pinochet and Lieutenant-Major Khadem that Russell is to remain under twenty-four hour security. We will give it more time before we decide what charges to press,” he concluded, “but I will not have him wandering the corridors of my ship.”
“Now, where were we on this lovely agenda you have prepared?”
Chapter 30
Under Alcubierre Drive
23:30 September 15, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-001 Avalon – Outer Hull Observatory
Almost every viewscreen and virtual ‘window’ aboard Avalon, when set to show the outside of the ship when under Alcubierre-Stetson drive, showed a simulation of what the stars around the starship’s warp bubble would look like were the ship, somehow, traveling at its unimaginable speed without Doppler effects and gravitational warping.
Michael understood the reasoning for it. It was more useful than the actual exterior of the ship, if watching simulated stars pass by was useful at all. Perhaps more importantly, many people found the horrendously distorted bubble of light around a ship traveling faster than light disturbing.
He found it helped him think.
Fortunately for people like Avalon’s new CAG, the ship’s designers had included a small observatory in the outer hull of the ship. In many senses, in fact, the observatory was outside the ship, built on top of the carrier’s heavy neutronium armor.
From that tiny outer bubble of armored glass, Michael Stanford looked out on a universe seen through the strangest of lenses. Towards the front of the ship, where the warp bubble hurtled forward at two light years per day, decelerating towards the Tranquility system at an acceleration as mind-boggling as her speed, the light of the universe was red-shifted into a deep, pulsing, purple.
No star or other source of the light was visible. All of the universe was lost in the starship’s speed and the incalculable gravitational distortion that forged the warp bubble in the first place, smeared into a single color of light.
Ripples of other colors were barely visible in that light, made of the deadly radiation trapped between the two layers of the ship’s Stetson stabilizers. The purple faded towards a deep blue as you looked towards the side of the ship, but even there the warp bubble itself garbled any light from outside.
Behind them, the blue faded in a deep red reminiscent of blood. Smears of that red reached forward along the ship, and smears of the blues and purple reached backwards as well. The human brain couldn’t process the impact of the red and blue shift of this velocity very well.
For a lot of people, just looking at the distorted bubble gave them a headache in seconds, or at least left them very uncomfortable. Michael simply sat cross-legged on a bench under the open observatory and watched i
t, drinking in the unfathomable energy of creation.
“I thought I’d find you here,” a voice said softly behind him. “A bit out of the way, aren’t you?” Kelly Mason asked as she stepped up next to the bench.
“I’m as off-duty as the CAG gets,” Michael reminded her. He found his heart racing at her presence, and ordered it to slow down. “Not many people are going to be looking for me at ship’s midnight.”
“The Captain re-arranged the bridge shifts,” Kelly told him, answering the unanswered question of why she wasn’t on duty. “We wanted to keep Antonio busy enough to forget that someone was pointing a gun at him – and get him off the same shift as Pendez.”
“How are they doing?” Michael asked softly. He’d been impressed by Kyle’s handling of the situation. He hadn’t met Senior Lieutenant Marcus Antonio at any point, but he quite liked what he’d seen of the ship’s Navigator. Somehow, despite both of their tendencies, they’d never managed to get into trouble with each other.
“Pendez is… shaken up, but handling it pretty well,” Mason said quietly. “Antonio… is more shocked that she kicked his overly pretty ass to the curb than anything else, I think. Splitting the two up kept them from causing issues.”
Michael looked away from the glowing universe outside the ship to look at her. Kelly’s gaze was locked on him.
“That’s what I wanted to avoid with us,” he admitted, acknowledging the point she was making.
“Did it work for you?” she asked bluntly. “Because it sure as fuck didn’t work for me, Michael. You wanted to avoid being emotionally compromised? Well, breaking up on the eve of a fucking war sure as hell emotionally compromised us, didn’t it?”
“Kelly, my job is to be expendable,” he told her after a long, long pause. “The Federation can replace starfighters – and starfighter pilots – by the thousand for the cost of a single battleship or carrier. Our job – my job – is to fight and die at distances that keep everyone aboard the carrier alive.”
Space Carrier Avalon Page 24
